Twisted
by Medieval Scribe
Summary: A twist on the events of 2x05 Ducking & Diving and the consequences for Allan, Djaq and Will.


**Twisted**

_Market day, Nottingham_

It was only by chance Djaq saw him that day, a lone figure hugging the shadows near the castle gate. He was about to slip away when she waved desperately in his direction and somehow managed to catch his eye. He waited, knowing she would seek him out, knowing she needed to speak to him.

Several minutes passed as she wound her way through the throngs on market day. Djaq looked around furtively to make sure none of the others had seen where she was going. It would not do for them to know she was making any effort to see him. They wouldn't understand, they would think she was somehow party to his treachery.

When she finally saw him, she gasped and held a hand up to her mouth. He looked terrible. His cheeks were hollow, and his eyes were red-rimmed and wild.

At a loss for words, she said the first thing that came to her. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled weakly and shrugged. "Didn't have any place else to go, really. I've been hiding…"

She wanted to reach out and touch him, not just to comfort him, but to convince herself this was real, and not some horrible dream. But she balled her hands into fists and kept them firmly at her sides instead. That felt real enough, and as her nails began to dig into her palms, she thought she could feel some of his pain.

She watched as he looked around for the others and gave her a worried frown.

"Do the others know you're here? Robin won't like it." His words were matter-of-fact, but there was an edge of sadness to them that made Djaq's heart sink.

"No." She said it simply, in a way that brooked no argument. "But I cannot stay. The rest, they will be leaving soon."

He nodded a farewell, and she gave him a brief wave of the hand. She was about to turn back into the crowd when his voice, small with exhaustion, called out to her.

"Djaq," he rasped. "You don't have any food, do you? I haven't eaten in three days…"

Her heart sank. "Oh, Will."

-- 

_Five days before_  
Trip Inn, Nottingham

Allan waited, barely breathing, as fear and fate surrounded him and left him cornered. Maggie had already offered him the usual purse, but he had refused the money in a sudden attack of conscience, and out of fear that Robin would catch him out.

But it seemed his fears were misplaced. It had been nearly three hours since sunset, and there was no sign of Robin anywhere. It could be that he simply wasn't coming, but Allan knew this was too much to hope. If Robin did not come, it would mean…it would mean there would be no punishment for Allan, no retribution for his sins. His betrayal, not only of Robin, but of the others, of _her_, would be wiped away, without another word. He could set aside his bargain with Gisborne and return to his old life. There would be no money, of course, none of the certainty and creature comforts Gisborne had used to entice him. But he would be back with those he loved best; he would have their trust, their friendship, and perhaps more if he played his cards right, especially with Djaq. She believed he was a good man, and maybe this was just the push he needed in that direction.

He dragged his chair away from the table, resolve and determination beating back worry and guilt. "Maggie, I'm leaving. If someone…if someone comes here looking for me, you tell 'im I refused the money, yeah? Tell 'im I'm back where I belong."

--

_A few hours later, Sherwood Forest_

Djaq's hands shook as she sharpened her blade against the whetstone. They were all on edge now that Robin had banished Will, and Allan was nowhere to be seen. The day's events had cast a pall over the camp, and not even their success at nabbing Henry of Lewes or saving Matilda and her grandchild had brought any happiness.

Much paced the length of the camp, muttering under his breath. The sound of his voice chafed at Djaq, and the constant motion annoyed her beyond reason. She sighed heavily and threw the whetstone at his feet. "Stop that! Right now."

He looked stricken, but also suspicious. "I'm just worried about my master. And you should be as well." He wagged an accusatory finger in her direction. "In fact, I bet you know more than you're saying. About Will being the traitor. Because if you've known all along—"

Djaq bristled and drew herself up to face him. "How dare you even suggest—"

"Stop it, both of you." John's voice boomed out over the camp. "No fighting. We'll stay here and wait for Robin, like he said. And we'll be quiet while we do it." He glared at Much. "Right?"

Much sniveled and slunk off to his bunk. Djaq gave John a weak smile that went barely noticed. She picked up the whetstone and examined it, running her fingers over the surface. Will and Allan had given it to her months ago, as a birthday present. She had been amused because it was not her birthday. But they had insisted, claiming she must have had a birthday in the past year, and so she had accepted it with her usual grace. She was glad too, because it was a remarkable piece of stone, grey and craggy on one side, much like any other rock in the forest. But the rock had split in two, and on one side, the grit had been polished so fine, it was almost like a mirror—slate black but with tiny flecks of gold and green that always reminded her of both Allan and Will. She smiled, forgetting for a moment the darkness of the day and the shadow that treachery and dishonesty were casting over all of them.

But her reverie lasted only a moment. Someone came crashing through the camp, and Much bolted out of his bunk and raced to the entrance, certain it would be Robin, returned with news of the spy.

It was Allan.

Djaq glared at him. "Where have you been?"

She got only a shrug and a dismissive gesture in response. Instead, Allan turned his attention to Much.

"Where's Robin anyway? Not back yet?"

"No," Much sighed. "Not that anyone here cares."

Djaq hissed, and John rolled his eyes in response, even as Allan fought the urge to laugh and reveal his elation at this unexpected reprieve. "What about Will? He was supposed to be back by now."

They all stared at each other, but nobody said the obvious words, the ones that were on the tip of their tongues. They didn't have to, because a moment later, Robin trudged in, looking defeated and sad beyond measure.

He held out a piece of twine, the outlaw tag swinging ominously from it. "It was Will. All along."

"Robin, I…" Djaq hesitated. She knew there was no way Will was the traitor, and yet, if she admitted such a thing, it would mean accusing someone else, damning another good man. And they would be back to where they had been this morning, with everyone looking at everyone else with suspicion. Still, she had to do something, for Will's sake. For truth's sake. "I need to speak to you. Privately, if possible."

"No, Djaq. I've had enough of words for the day. From all of you." He turned on them, anger lashing off of him, hot and thick. "Today, a man I have known and called a friend, one I trusted with my life, turned out to be a traitor. That changes everything. Everything.  
"From now on, I do the talking. All of it."

His stance was defiant and his voice soft but certain as he spoke. He flung Will's tag into the brush.

"Nobody is to have any contact with Will, of any sort. This gang has its own rules, and the first rule now is that the penalty for disobeying me is banishment." He turned his attention to Allan and Djaq. "Do I make myself clear?"

John looked baffled, but Much nodded vehement agreement. "Fine. You'll never see me near Will. Always thought there was something off about him."

Allan bristled. "Oi, that's enough out of you. You can't really believe Will—_Will_—could do something like this."

Much shrugged. "You said yourself, didn't you? That we might get weak? Well, maybe Will is weak."

Allan and Much continued their argument, while Djaq watched in shocked silence. It could not be. It was not possible that Will had betrayed the gang. And to Gisborne of all people, a man he loathed more than any other save the Sheriff himself! Something was wrong here, something terribly wrong.

She allowed herself a sidelong glance at Allan. When he had come to her earlier, with his vague comment about people being stuck, she had assumed it was a confession of guilt. But now, she was not so sure. Allan seemed troubled, and angrier than usual, but that was to be expected for a man whose best friend had turned out to be a traitor. Was that all there was to it, or was Allan covering up something? His own guilt perhaps? There was only one way to be certain. She'd have to set a trap for Allan.

--

_A week later_

Allan walked into the clearing several paces behind Djaq. He was not following her, not exactly. But she had not spoken more than three words to him in the days since Will's banishment. The camp was almost unbearable with Will gone, and the silent treatment from Djaq left him feeling miserable and more twisted by his own guilt than ever before.

"Allan! You are making me nervous." Djaq stopped short just ahead, and admonished him, hands on her hips. She looked both tired and very sad. "Why are you following me anyway?"

He hesitated. "I'm not—well, not following you. Not exactly. Just thought we could talk." He shrugged, unsure of how to keep his guilt hidden and yet somehow reveal his thoughts to her. "You don't talk to me now. Barely even look at me."

She glared at him, defiant and fierce. But then suddenly, her shoulders sagged and she sighed and threw up her hands, defeated. "It is…just all the things that have happened in the last few days."

"Yeah." Hope flickered briefly. "But see, that's just it. Things are better now. Right?"

"Are they?"

Allan caught the edge in her voice, but he pressed on, convinced he could make her see things his way, if only she'd give him a chance. "Yeah. Robin's alright now, isn't he? The traitor's gone." _I'll never betray you again, I promise_.

She had been facing away from, walking into the woods, and purposely putting distance between them. But now she wheeled around and began walking towards him. She shoved him hard, and Allan lost his footing and stumbled onto the ground.

She hissed at him. "You are many things, Allan A Dale. But until now, I did not think you were a _fool_."

Allan spluttered. He had expected her to be angry, to shout at him. But he had not expected she would insult him, or attack him, as she seemed to be attempting. He scrambled a few feet away from her, confused by the way she was staring him down.

"Do you really think that everything is all right? Do you really think Robin believes _Will_ is the traitor?" Allan squirmed under her scrutiny, and cast about for the right thing to say.

"Well, that's what Robin said. I have to believe what Robin says."

Djaq scoffed in response, keeping her gaze steadily on him. "This is a test, Allan. Robin knows. _You_ know."

Allan was about to profess his innocence, but something about the way Djaq was looking at him—as if she were more disappointed than angry—made the words stick in the back of his throat.

He swallowed his pride and tried to push away the sickening feeling of guilt. "So…what am I supposed to do?"

Djaq shook her head sadly. "I do not know. I think that maybe things have gone too far now…"

"What about all the stuff you said before? That I was a good man?" He sat back against a tree and made a great show of dusting himself off, careful not to meet her eyes. "Just a bit of nonsense then?"

"No." She walked over to the tree, and crouched down on the ground in front of him. "It was the truth. Or at least I believed it was true then. I want to believe that it is true still."

Allan laughed, the sound hollow and loud in the silence of the forest. "Why would you want that? You think you can still talk me into fixing all this?"

Djaq shook her head. "It is not hard to force a good man to do bad things, Allan. Because he is afraid, because he thinks he is stuck. But it is very difficult to force a bad man to do good. It is not something I wish to attempt."

"You think I'm a bad man now?"

"No. But you have not given me a chance to think of you in any other way."

She waited for a few moments, maybe because she wanted to hear what Allan had to say, but he had nothing. Djaq picked up her satchel and began to walk way.

"Where are you going?" Panic rose sharply in his chest. "You're not leaving us, are you?" _I need you…I can't do this if you and Will are both gone._

She did not turn around, but her voice was clear and determined when she called back to him. "Give me reason to believe again. Show me Allan A Dale is the sort of man who would not let a friend suffer his betrayal twice."

--

Djaq set the satchel aside and spread her cloak on the ground. She had come to this place—a tiny clearing in the forest—to pray. It was not often that she did this formally, preferring to simply speak to her God instead. Every night, she would lie in her bunk staring at a tiny chink in the camp's roof that allowed moonlight to stream through it. Her scattered thoughts would align themselves, and for a few moments, she would simply commune with Allah, thanking him for his bounty, and for keeping them all safe for another day.

The events of the past week had been too harrowing though. Her mind was unsettled, and it was only the regimen of daily prayer that seemed to restore Djaq. Of course, on this day, even the familiar cadences of the Arabic litany brought no comfort. Her mind was awhirl from her conversation with Allan.

In truth, she had not expected him to follow her into the forest, but she had expected him to eventually confess his sins to her. Her plan was simple. She had not known with certainty that Allan was guilty, and she certainly had no idea if Robin knew the truth either. But she knew the longer she neglected Allan, the longer she appeared to be angry with him, the more likely he was to come to her for an explanation. It had worked like a charm, but Djaq felt none of the usual satisfaction that came with a plan falling neatly into place.

Instead, her new knowledge of Allan's treachery gnawed at her, and left her feeling uncertain and confused. There was no way to predict what would happen now. If Allan kept his betrayal a secret, then her friendship with him was over. She could forgive him his treachery, but she could not forgive him for letting Robin banish Will from the gang. But if Allan came clean and admitted everything to Robin, then surely Allan would be banished. No matter what happened, nothing would ever be the same again. That thought troubled Djaq deeply, and she cast a final pleading glance heavenward, begging Allah to show all these wayward men His mercy and compassion.

A gentle clearing of the throat brought her back. She looked up and smiled at the sight of Will. "You are late."

He shook his head. "No, I've been here a while. Just didn't want to bother you while you…"

Djaq listened to his voice trail off, amused by Will's reluctance to talk about prayer. It was an old argument between them, one she had given up with great reluctance when he'd finally told her he did not have much use for God—Christian or otherwise. She had not pressed him then, but she wondered now if God might have been able to help with Will's situation. _Even if you have forsworn Him, surely He does not forsake you._

He looked no worse than when she had last seen him. She had not been able to bring him any food that day, and she had worried that his condition would worsen before she could see him again. She suspected he had been foraging in the woods, scrounging for food, and with luck, he would not be as hungry as he had been before.

Djaq dug into her satchel and pulled out two hunks of bread and a piece of cheese. "I am sorry, but I could not bring more without making the others suspicious."

Will grabbed the food out of her hands quickly, but to her surprise, he did not devour everything. Instead, he nibbled on the bread and stuffed the rest of the food into his pocket. She watched him in consternation, but he simply shrugged.

"Can't eat too fast on an empty stomach. It makes you sick." Will smiled weakly. "I've been hungry before, Djaq. Much worse than this."

"Oh, Will."

He shook his head, as if to say there was nothing to worry about. "Does anyone know you're here?"

"Little John. He does not believe you would betray us."

"And _you_?" His eyes were on hers, intense and questioning. "Do you think it was me?"

Djaq tried to match his earnest demeanor, but failed and resorted to laughter instead. "You are in hiding, you are starving, and you look terrible. If you are a traitor, you are not very good at it."

Will joined in her laughter, and for a moment, the breaking strain she had seen on his face disappeared, and it was almost as if nothing had happened in the past few days. But it did not last, and they lapsed into silence as Will ate the rest of his food.

"Listen, Will. I think you should come back. I can speak to Robin. He will understand." She hesitated, and then added, "everything could be like before."

He shook his head. "No, it can't be the same as before, Djaq. Too much has happened."

Will gave her a frank and searching look. "You know, don't you? Who actually did it?" He turned away from her and shuffled his feet. But when he looked up again, she saw anger rising crimson in his face. There was a bitter note to his voice when he spoke. "Because I think I know who it is."

She nodded. "But you should not be angry, Will. Sometimes people get—"

"Don't, Djaq," he interrupted. "Don't tell me anything. I don't want to know. I'm better off not knowing. I can guess, but as long as I don't really _know_, I can pretend it isn't true."

"But—"

"Please, Djaq. Just let it go."

She nodded and dropped the matter. Maybe Will was right. He was better off being in the dark about Allan. Still, there was no rift in the world that could not be healed with time and patience, and she resolved to set things right for Will. And for Allan.

"I have to go now, Will. But I will see you tomorrow. Here."

"No. I won't be here."

She gaped at him, and he shrugged and managed to look almost sorry for her.

"I've been thinking, Djaq. There's nothing for me here anymore. Robin doesn't need me. Or even want me. And you…"

He hesitated a bit before continuing. "I think I'm going up to Scarborough. See how Lukey's doing.

"I'm a carpenter. I could work there, have a bit of money, and take care of my aunt." He looked sad, but resigned to this fate. "I just wish…"

"Are you sure about this, Will?"

"Pretty sure, yes." He put his hand out as if to pull her in for a hug, but he dropped it after just a moment. "Thank you. For the food, I mean."

"Will…"

"You should get going. Before it gets too dark."

She nodded and began to pack up her satchel, deeply reluctant to leave Will there, but putting on as brave a front as possible, for his sake. "Are you leaving right away? Today?"

He shook his head. "No. At first light."

Djaq nodded, feeling a vast sadness overtake her. Will had been her first friend in England, had helped her adjust to her new life, and trusted her with his secrets, maybe even his heart. But now, all of that was over. And for what? A bit of coin, a little pride? Anger began to edge away her melancholy, and she welcomed it, hoping it would give her some solution that her rational, dispassionate mind had not seen.

But nothing came to her save more anger, and she did not want to mar her last few moments with Will. So she let the emotion slip away and forced herself to smile. "Maybe I will stay with you for a while then."

"I'd like that."

--

_The next morning_

Djaq startled awake, panicking that she was too late. But the sky told her that dawn had only just broken, and there was a little bit of time left. She was determined to see Will one last time before he walked away from Sherwood forever. Besides, all his tools were still at the camp, and she sensed Will would be a bit lost without them.

She dressed quickly and hopped out of her bunk and across the floor to Will's bunk. She felt around under the bunk where she knew Will usually kept his toolbelt and weapons. But instead of the metal and wood she had expected to feel, her hands came into contact with something small and hard. She rummaged around and pulled out the object, gasping in surprise.

It was Allan's tag, and Will's tools were nowhere to be found. It only took Djaq a few more minutes to piece together what had happened, and she found herself smiling in spite of the sadness of it all. Having Allan and Will in the gang was without a doubt her first choice, but knowing Allan was with Will somewhere, trying to make amends for his actions, _that_ was a very close second.

_I wonder how far this Scarborough place is from here?_

--


End file.
